


Flamingly Gay Road Trip Adventure (Except Not)

by anemptymargin



Series: Journey-Verse [5]
Category: Psych
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-16
Updated: 2011-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-27 09:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The secretly-a-couple-but-barely, Henry and Carlton go on a road trip in a '57 Chevy Bel Air to the country's biggest gun show in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Along the way, Henry starts trying to push Carlton out of his comfort zone to accept that like it or not they're in a relationship and it's okay. Carlton... is a jackass that can't handle being "the gay detective" and pushes the other direction. Barbecue, arguments, awkwardness, guns, and vacation-beard smut ensue. At the end... things can't go back to where they were before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flamingly Gay Road Trip Adventure (Except Not)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Artwork For This Story](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/5857) by megan-moonlight. 



> My contribution to the journeystory big bang challenge on livejournal. So many thanks go to my lovely artist, megan-moonlight who created a beautiful header, background and wonderful icons to go with my fic in this little odd ship. I owe you, hon… you rock my world. Dedicated to my Lassie muse in hiding, Becca.
> 
> Wonderful Art by megan-moonlight to accompany! Check it out! <http://megan-moonlight.livejournal.com/472177.html>

 

“Ready for your big vacation?” Henry grinned, sitting on the edge of Carlton’s desk. The station was mostly empty but the light was still on in Karen’s office and a few patrol officers milled around the coffee and vending machines. Carlton had sent Juliet down to records after briefing her on the current state of the case he was leaving mostly finished, nothing major – well within her capacity if not completely dull.

 

Carlton looked up at him, brushing Henry’s leg with his knee in an attempt to remove him from the desk, but only succeeding in making it look like a sign of affection. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into taking two weeks off.”

 

“You’ll like it. Besides… you won’t be alone.” Henry held out his approval notice for the same days, grinning wide. “I talked Karen into letting me take some time off.”

 

Carlton blinked several times, forcing back the sudden stab of rage. “Henry. Did you think about that move for even two seconds?” His voice dropped down to a whisper; “Could you possibly be more obvious? I honestly thought you were a better detective than that… maybe you’re slipping in your old age…”

 

Henry shot back quietly; “And maybe I told her that I was specifically taking the time off - as your friend - to take a drive to an event that we’re both interested in.”

 

“I’m sorry… I don’t follow…” He shook his head, dropping the whisper, “What do you mean ‘as your friend’?”

 

“As far as Karen is concerned, we’re the best of friends… and she’s tickled pink about it. Come on, I’ve been telling her about spending time with you for weeks – haven’t you?”

 

“I don’t talk about my personal life…”

 

“Which is why people would suspect something is going on. Haven’t you ever told a lie? Every lie has some thread of truth in it… for covering up our – whatever – the easiest thing is to let the whole world know that we’re close.” Henry shifted himself off the desk, still leaning against it as he spoke. “That’s why I put that picture of us on my desk from when we went bowling with my poker buddies.”

 

“You… you framed that picture? It was taken while I was eating a corn dog.” Carlton’s voice rose with his blood pressure. “I can’t believe you’re displaying it in public! At our place of employment no less…”

 

“That’s what friends do, we have stupid pictures together so that when someone drops by our desk they can laugh and smile and go ‘hey, you guys really have a good time together – I knew you worked well when you weren’t arguing about a case’ and be none the wiser.” Henry lifted an eyebrow, nodding to a young looking patrol officer as he walked past. “Friends also go to the biggest gun show in the country together.” He dug into his inside jacket pocket, withdrawing a folded advertisement for said event in four days… in Oklahoma.”

 

Derailed from his frustration, Carlton looked at the page. “Wow. Biggest gun show? We’re flying to Oklahoma?”

 

“Nope. Driving. Three days each way.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. There’s no way I’m locking myself in my car – or your truck – for a week. Not even for a gun show. I’ll fly.”

 

“We’re not taking your car, or my truck.” Henry pulled out his phone, slowly pulling up a photo he’d saved the day before. “Friend of mine is loaning me one of his.” He grinned wide, turning the photo to show a pristine blue 1957 Chevy Bel Air convertible with cream interior and lots of chrome.

 

“That’s… Henry, is that…”

 

“Yes it is. ’57 Bel Air. Soft top convertible. Fully restored and ours for the whole trip.” He paused a long moment, letting Carlton stare at the car; “How about it?”

 

“Hey guys!” Juliet returned, smiling over a small stack of records she planned on taking home for the night. “Figured you’d be off getting ready for your big trip by now.”

 

“Wait… you know about the trip?” Carlton looked up at Henry again, scowling. “You told her about the trip?”

 

“Of course I told her about the trip. She helped me pick between the Bel Air and the Lincoln.” Henry grinned; “Besides, it was her idea to surprise you with the gun show, and I thought maybe it would be fun to go along with.”

 

“You are…”

 

“So busted!” Shawn came up quickly, pointing his finger at Henry with a self-righteous smirk. “I knew you were lying when you said you were taking a singles cruise.”

 

“You got me. I didn’t want to hear you cracking jokes about somebody getting shot on the way home,” Henry rolled his eyes. “Anyway,” he turned his attention back to Lassiter, “I’m picking you up bright and early, five o’clock sharp. If you’re not dressed and packed I’m leaving without you.”

 

“Oh come on… it’s my first day of vacation.” Carlton pouted slightly, only slightly as his partner and the younger Spencer were present. “Can we do seven?”

 

“Not if you want to make it for our check-in in Flagstaff.” Henry replied, “In a cozy little bed and breakfast I had to pull a few strings to get into this time of year.”

 

“So, he’s your Dad now too.” Shawn laughed, raising his eyebrows at his father.

 

Juliet was more suspicious than an eyebrow raise, but let it roll off like so many other things she’d seen in the last six months… Activia containers, packed lunches, frequent delays when he was in certain areas by himself in the car. “More like a wife.” She muttered, smiling no less.

 

Carlton went a little pale and nearly choked on his coffee, but Henry stepped in. “I’m very particular about my plans, O’Hara – and if that is a wifely thing to, then I’m proud of it.”

 

“Proud and anal retentive.” Shawn butted in, “I remember one road trip to Nevada when he even planned potty breaks…”

 

“It’s not my fault you had a weak bladder, Shawn.”

 

“I was six!”

 

***

 

Five o’clock on the dot, Henry turned into Carlton’s driveway in the ’57 and beeped the tinny horn as he turned the crank to lower the convertible top. Something about being behind the wheel of a boat like the old Chevy made him feel like a million bucks, even at the early hour. After waiting five minutes, he turned off the motor and let himself in the house only to find Lassiter dressed with his bags by the door – dozed off in his armchair. “Come on, Carlton… burning daylight.”

 

Carlton groaned, peeling both eyes halfway open. “Can’t burn daylight before sunrise.” He muttered, no less managing himself up on his feet. “I demand breakfast with coffee and bacon.”

 

“Tell you what…” Henry sighed, picking up the smaller of his two bags and a garment bag, “…two hours on the road and we’ll stop at the first diner we come by?”

 

Mulling it over as they finished loading the car and he double checked that the house was locked down, Carlton slipped into the passenger seat with a slight smile. “Only if I get to nap the two hours.”

 

“Mmm, sure.” Henry nodded, taking them down the driveway before Carlton had slid down all the way in the comfortable leather and pulled his straw hat down over his eyes. It was a quiet drive that landed them just East of Duarte in Los Angeles County – as promised; he pulled into the furthest parking spot at a diner that looked to be doing a brisk business. “Ready to eat?” As if he had to ask.

 

Smiling, Carlton lifted the brim of his hat – eyes still glassy with sleep but wide open. “I smell pig flesh.”

 

“I smell your cardiologist blaming your first heart attack on this trip.”

 

“We can only hope.” He chuckled dryly, cranking the top back up before letting Henry lead him into the small, but clean, diner. They took opposite sides of a booth facing the car and glanced over the menus – ultimately ordering the same thing they would have gotten anywhere else. Eggs, bacon, pancakes and bottomless coffee. “So… why the road trip? I mean, we could fly out a lot easier.”

 

“It’s not about the destination.” Henry started, stopping himself when he realized just how much he sounded like a bumper sticker. “When Shawn was little we used to go on a lot of summer road trips, you know… just pick somewhere and go.”

 

“So it’s about Shawn?” The name sounded odd as it came out, but he was trying to make an effort outside of the office to at least treat him like Henry’s family and not just the thorn in his side that he was.

 

Henry shook his head, adding cream and sugar to his mug before the waitress poured out their coffee. “No, not at all. It’s about… well, us I guess. It was always a chance to bond and spend time together in new places.”

 

The sentiment wasn’t entirely lost on Lassiter, though he’d be the first to admit he didn’t think it was necessary to bond… they’d already managed to spend two nights a week about as close as any two people could ever get. Maybe it was about more than just Sundays and Wednesdays and the occasional fishing trip. “Cute.” He responded.

 

“Yeah. Well… I just thought it’d be fun.” He shrugged and stirred his coffee much longer than he needed to – watching Lassiter blankly examining the Route 66 map on the table as his spoon dinged off the heavy sides of the mug. “I like driving and happen to know a guy with some nice cars that owed me a favor – all you have to do is kick back and eat diner food and indulge me.”

 

“That, I can do.” Carlton paused, looking up when Henry’s sneaker brushed against the leg of his jeans. “You’re really into this sort of thing, aren’t you?”

 

Henry shrugged, “I like spending time with you. You do understand that concept, right?”

 

“Of course. I like spending time with you too, it just never occurred to me to lock myself in a moving vehicle for several days.” Carlton shrugged.

 

Soon enough, their breakfast arrived and they were left to piles of eggs and pancakes and meat. Pushing half a sausage link across his plate, well into their meal, Henry sighed and said; “We don’t have to do this. Let’s just turn around and go home and I’ll buy us a couple plane tickets…”

 

“Shut up, Henry.” Carlton groaned. “You want to do this, we’re doing it.”

 

“Because that’s exactly why we should do things.” He grumbled sarcastically in response.

 

“It’s why we’re doing this thing. I’m indulging you and eating.” Carlton gestured at his plate with his fork, “I’m just not into vacations.”

 

Henry grumbled again, swallowing his bite. “I mean it; you don’t have to do this. I don’t want you doing something just because you think it’s what I want to do.”

 

Carlton picked up the keys Henry had left sitting on the table between them. “You know what, Old Man? If you’re gonna be like this the whole trip then I’m driving it.”

 

“Carlton…”

 

“No. This is my vacation, damn it, and I’m not gonna let you bitch about ‘not going for the right reason’ the whole time. I’m doing this because it’s what I want to do. Regardless of the reason I want to do it. Can you deal with that?” He lowered his eyes at the older man, staring him down, “Or are you gonna be a big girl about this?”

 

Henry sighed and crossed his arms, shaking his head for a long moment before ultimately relenting and putting his hand out for the keys. “But only because you’re saying you want to do it.”

 

“I do.”

 

“And because tonight we’re staying at this great little bed and breakfast.”

 

***

 

Northern Arizona proved to be an interesting departure from Santa Barbra, and the bed and breakfast was as great as Henry had been told it would be. Small, secluded, and above all – they really didn’t care who they were or why they were staying there. They’d rolled into town shortly after six and after dinner and a few drinks at a bar with a big neon javelina on the sign, were tucked in comfortably with _Dirty Harry_ on cable and the twin scrapes of spoons against paper carton as Lassiter dug into some _Americone Dream_ and Henry polished off his _Chubby Hubby_. It was nothing short of the perfect end to the first short day on the road.

 

“Mmm, I’m liking this trip even more than I did when I saw that car.” Carlton leaned in close to Henry when the movie went to commercial.

 

Henry chuckled, taking the last creamy bite his belly could handle before setting the other half aside. “You’re eating ice cream in bed, of course you like it.”

 

“My favorite ice cream no less. And that bar had amazing food… and you didn’t flinch when they played Waylon Jennings.” Carlton grinned, tapping his spoon against a lump of waffle cone; “Though you did get a little red around the ears when the waitress asked if we wanted separate checks.”

 

“You said ‘No, we’re together’ like it was no big thing.” Henry shrugged, “I wasn’t expecting it.”

 

“On the check – one person paying. It’s not like I said; ‘Yes, please bring us our homo check so we can pay with our queer cash before we go back to our flamingly gay road trip adventure’ or something.” Carlton shrugged and took another large bite before adding, with his mouth full, “For the record, that was sarcasm and if you repeat any of that I’ll be forced to hurt you.”

 

“Yeah,” Henry rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re having a good time.” He smiled and leaned into Carlton’s shoulder as they sat side by side on the king sized bed, comfortable to simply watch the movie.

 

At the next commercial, Carlton spoke again. “That’s not the only reason I’m in a good mood.”

 

He waited for more information, but when none came, Henry asked; “Why, then?”

 

“It’s Wednesday.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“So… you know what happens on Wednesdays.”

 

“Walker, Texas Ranger is on at seven?” Henry smirked, he knew the answer but it was nice to actually get him to say it once in a while.

 

Carlton groaned and narrowed his eyes again. “Come on, Henry. Every Wednesday and Sunday for the last seven months… we… you know, we do our thing.”

 

“We grill red meat and drink too much beer?”

 

The groan turned into a frustrated growl and he took off Henry’s reading glasses – setting them on the nightstand. “And then we…” He dropped his voice to a near-whisper, smiling as he spoke. “You know, have sex.”

 

Henry laughed, barely stifled, and shook his head. “Wow… don’t let anyone say that you aren’t a Casanova. I might just swoon here…”

 

“Don’t be a smartass. You know what I mean.”

 

“Yeah… I got it.” Henry licked a stray bit of ice cream off his lower lip and then scooted down on the bed, unsurprised when Carlton echoed the motion and they were lying belly to belly on top of the blanket.

 

Carlton rested his hand on Henry’s side, rubbing his thumb along the waistband of the older man’s khaki shorts. “So… you want to?”

 

“Well, it is Wednesday… I’d hate to break your schedule just because we’re on vacation.”

 

He didn’t like the sarcastic tone of Henry’s response and let it be known with a frustrated groan. “I’m not saying we have to… it’s just that we normally do, unless I’m on a case or you’re… you know, when you can’t…”

 

“If you’re going to insult me at least have the guts to say it. When I can’t get an erection. It happens. It’s normal and I’m not taking the drugs.”

 

“And I don’t want you to.” Carlton added, “And you usually do get one – just sometimes it doesn’t hang around long.”

 

Henry groaned and rolled his eyes. “And why did I start sleeping with you?”

 

“Because between the two of us there was enough sexual frustration to cripple half of Santa Barbra and we’re both really bad at boxing.”

 

“I’m not sexually frustrated.”

 

“Not anymore.” Carlton grinned, hooking his thumb under the waistband and giving a gentle tug. “Once or twice a week is all it takes to keep you purring like that delicious beast of a car that brought us here.”

 

He’s not sure if it’s the most romantic comparison Carlton’s made involving him, or one of the most disturbing. Assuming the former, Henry merely shook his head and sighed. “You don’t have to schedule it, if you’re worried about my performance. Believe it or not, I’m in pretty good shape and I’m pretty sure I can keep up with you.”

 

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, “You really think so, Old Man?”

 

“I know so.” Henry narrowed his gaze, licking his lips.

 

Neither of them was one to back down from a challenge, it was on. “You really think you can take me?” Carlton pushed firmly against Henry’s shoulder and shifted his weight, rolling astride him with no trouble, both palms firmly planted at his shoulders. “I’d like to see you try.”

 

Henry grunted, easily taking the extra weight pressed against him. “Pinning me, that’s the best you’ve got?”

 

“I seem to recall a certain someone who thinks it’s a good move to pull on a guy that’s down.” Carlton smiled, brushing the seat of his pants over Henry’s pelvis.

 

“In my defense, you had me backed into a corner.” Henry smirked, unfazed by the expected maneuver. “There weren’t many ways to get you off of me that didn’t involve knocking you down.”

 

“It’s not a regulation boxing move.” Carlton shook his head, opening the top two buttons of his short sleeved button down. “You should have kissed me.”

 

“Never saw Tyson pull that one.”

 

“Wouldn’t have worked on Holyfield.” Carlton shrugged.

 

Henry rocked his hips slightly, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. “True. What about you?”

 

He smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth barely upturned. “I don’t know. Nobody’s ever done that before.”

 

“I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m punching you in the head.”

 

“That’d be a good idea.”

 

A smile creased Henry’s lips and he shook his head. “You realize we could be naked right now.”

 

“Foreplay.” Carlton shrugged.

 

“Your idea of foreplay is taking off your belt.” Henry grasped the small metal buckle of Carlton’s belt, giving it a tug.

 

“Yeah, and yours is taking off that god-awful shirt.” Carlton’s fingers found the hem of said shirt, a new blue and green number that looked vaguely like what he figured peacocks must look like in mating season, and worked open several buttons.

 

Henry raised an eyebrow; “I thought it was making you dinner and trying to wrangle you into bed without implying what day of the week it was.”

 

“No fair. You know I’m always aware of what day of the week it is. Even when I fall asleep with the game on.”

 

“We’re only really together two days a week anyway; it’s got to be one of them.” Henry shrugged, helping Carlton pop open the wooden buttons in his rayon Hawaiian shirt. “I mean, take your pick it’s a fifty-fifty win.”

 

“Mmm, but it’s all the time we need to do our thing.” Carlton’s grin spread and he pushed open Henry’s shirt, tracing his hands over his bare chest.

 

Henry smiled reflexively at the caress of strong hands against his body, Carlton’s fingers raking through the smattering of wiry hair. “Maybe I think we need more time.”

 

“What, you think you can handle three?” He raised an eyebrow, knowing full and well two was pushing it.

 

“I think I can handle spending more time with you.” Henry reached up began thumbing open Carlton’s buttons. “Maybe a lot more time.”

 

“Henry…” Carlton sighed, shaking his head. “We’ll talk about it after the trip, okay?”

 

“Sure.” He knew they wouldn’t, but it was Lassiter’s way of asking him to shut up without outright saying it. Pushing Carlton’s shirt off his shoulders, he wasn’t surprised when the other man leaned in closer against him, struggling out of his pants. “We’re hopeless.” He laughed when finally; Carlton was naked on top of him and pawing at the fly of his shorts. “You know, this was supposed to be romantic.”

 

“Please. Stop. Talking.” Carlton gave a hard tug at the button, working it free and then forcefully tugged down the zipper. “Ah-huh. Much better.”

 

Henry tried to say something, but was cut off by the sensation of Carlton’s hand cupping him through his boxers, gently squeezing and stroking the warm cotton over his cock. “Uh-huh.”

 

“Quickest way to shut you up.” He smirked, squeezing harder.

 

Henry sat up, pushing tight against him with a wide grin. He’d said as much as he’d expected to and was much more interested in the warm touch of his lover’s hands. “Roll over.” He whispered, guiding Carlton onto his back and kneeling between his thighs before fighting off his shorts and kicking them to the edge of the bed.

 

“Like what you see, Papa Bear?” Carlton’s lips quirked into another soft smile as he rubbed a palm over his bare belly, watching the older man collect himself.

 

Henry nodded, rubbing both hands over the outsides of Carlton’s hips. “I do.”

 

The smile crept up slightly, and Carlton replied; “Yeah, me too.”

 

It was enough to elicit a small, uncomfortable laugh. Henry still hadn’t gotten used to being looked at, admired even. He leaned in casually, rocking his hips as he kissed his lover. It was a familiar dance, cuddling and touching - gently rubbing against each other.

 

“Mmm… God…” Carlton groaned, working his hand between them to guide his cock against Henry’s. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

 

“Yeah?” Henry grunted, forcing himself to take it slow and concentrate on Carlton’s voice. “Like what?”

 

Carlton swallowed hard, letting out another soft moan when Henry pushed even tighter against him. “In the car.” He smiled, rubbing and hand over the top of Henry’s head, teasing at the small stray hairs still clinging for dear life. “Like in the movies.”

 

“Mmm, park it in some back lot somewhere and hop in the backseat?”

 

Carlton shook his head and lowered his voice to a soft purr. “That long stretch of I-10 between Indio and Blythe… there was nobody on the road – not even truckers.” He pushed his hips up to meet each of Henry’s thrusts against his belly, the familiar spread of wetness already matting against his dark curls. “With that bench seat it’d be so easy to just lean over…”

 

“Easy and illegal.” Henry reminded him, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder.

 

“My fantasy, I’m allowed.”

 

Henry shuddered and let out another low groan. “Right… so thinking about sucking me off right there on the highway?”

 

Carlton moaned, rocking himself even harder. “Maybe…”

 

“Maybe?” Henry grinned wider, digging his cock against him until Carlton’s strong fingers wrapped around the shaft and guided him lower. “Mmm, feeling up to it tonight?”

 

“Mmmhmmm…” Carlton nodded, eyes half lidded as he spread his thighs to allow Henry’s hardness to slide downward against the crack of his ass, teasing him. “Please?” he breathed, spreading himself further.

 

“I knew it.” Henry kissed his shoulder again, “Thinking about getting pounded on the side of the road like a dirty whore?”

 

“Henry…” Carlton groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “Don’t talk… just… do it…”

 

Henry let out a rumbling groan as he guided himself into place, teasing his fingertips over the opening. “Black bag, nightstand.”

 

He didn’t have to ask twice, Carlton snatched the bag off the stand and dumped the contents out on his chest, quickly digging out the travel size bottle of Astroglide from the assorted rubble of tubes, packets and bottles before brushing the rest away to be picked up later. “You brought this little thing for the whole trip?”

 

“It’s only ten days… maybe three of which we’ll be doing anything.”

 

“Yeah, but you take a lot.” Carlton feigned a pout, pressing it into Henry’s hand. “What if I want to be on top?”

 

“Are we really going to argue about lube right now?” Henry rolled his eyes, coating his fingers with a thin sheen, barely letting it warm against his skin before stroking it against the tight hole. “Because I can think of a lot better things to be doing.”

 

“Uh… oh…” Carlton groaned, closing his eyes as surprisingly nimble fingers opened him up. “Uh-huh.” Slowly, his body relaxed against the sensation and let Henry’s fingers take over – stroking and stretching… teasing him beyond what he’d do simply for practicality’s sake. “Please… Henry. Please.”

 

“You’re so impatient.” Henry wiggled his fingers, withdrawing to gently rub the tip of his cock against the tender flesh. “

 

“I need it,” he groaned louder, lifting his hips up to gently press back against him. “It’s been a while.”

 

By Henry’s understanding, it was Carlton’s way of handing over control… letting himself be taken and pushed outside his boundaries. He was more than happy to do the pushing, and not just because it felt really nice. “Shh…” He rocked his hips and slowly thrust inside him, lowering himself back down against Carlton’s chest once he’d hilted fully against his rump. “God…”

 

Carlton shuddered hard and wrapped his arms around his partner’s chest – holding as they worked together, slow and easy thrusts gradually working themselves up to a fevered pitch of grunts and moans.

 

Suddenly Henry felt Carlton still underneath him, letting out a low groan as his muscles clenched and drew him in harder. “Close… close…” Henry whispered, pushing himself to go even harder as his lover’s face knotted – eyes tightly closed against the sensation, lips drawn up in a thin line. “A little more… God…”

 

And then suddenly Carlton’s eyes opened wide, a loud moan filling the room as he came, warm wetness slicking Henry’s belly with each increasingly hard thrust. “Oh God… yes… yes… there!”

 

Henry pushed down hard against him, pinning him to the mattress with a quiet groan, locking eyes with him for a brief a moment. And that was enough, with a soft whine, Henry pressed his body in tight against Carlton’s solid frame and finished inside him.

 

A quiet moment punctuated by mutual panting and soft, nearly relieved laughter, passed between them. Gently, Carlton stroked his palm over the top of Henry’s head, teasing around his ears. “That was…” He laughed gently, shaking his head against the pillows; “Yeah, well worth the cost of admission.”

 

“Cost of admission? Did you just compare our sex life to a roller coaster?”

 

“More like a carnival ride, really…”

 

With a half-amused groan, Henry plucked up his pillow and smacked it down on his lover’s head – managing to sit back up. “Come on Sticky the Clown; get your ass in the shower.”

 

***

 

From Arizona and into New Mexico, the going was pretty smooth. They switched off driving after each stop, be it restroom a break or meal – or to make sure the squirrel Carlton hit was definitely dead. They weren’t going to be stopping for the night until Texas, but Henry had made plans for a good hour and a half stop that he absolutely refused to tell Carlton the details of.

 

Just about five hours outside of Flagstaff, and a little behind schedule but within reason, Henry pulled off the I-40 in Albuquerque and directed them to the destination. They’d have to shift lunch to after their reserved hour… but he was pretty sure an hour at the shooting range would be well worth it in Carlton’s eyes.

 

“Wait, wait… I smell gunpowder.” Carlton grinned, looking up at the large building as Henry pulled up and parked the car. “Oh, please tell me we’re going to the range, Henry. Please? I promise I won’t ask for another thing on this trip…

 

It was unlikely, but Henry grinned and nodded anyway. “I reserved an hour, our own lanes. I know you brought your Glock with, but you didn’t know I brought the hardballer.”

 

Carlton’s grin stretched even wider as Henry reached under the passenger seat and brought out the .45 caliber, already unlatching the trigger lock and putting it into its holster. “Oh… my.” He groaned, “Papa Bear, you’ve outdone yourself.”

 

Henry pressed the weapon into his hands, not shocked when he immediately tucked the large, leather sheathed gun into the back of his jeans. “Come on, let’s go get some practice. Show off your stuff.”

 

They walked into the range like they owned the place, setting up in a pair of center lanes – side by side with two boxes of ammo and a stack of paper targets each. Henry hadn’t been behind a Glock in a while, the heft of it felt good in his hands but his aim was off considerably. Carlton, however, didn’t have anywhere near that problem – each clip flawlessly emptied into the chest of an unsuspecting Chester B. Paper drone.

 

“Your grouping is terrible, Henry. You need a ladies pistol?” Carlton elbowed him after they both doffed their protective headgear. “I’m pretty sure they’ve got a baby Baretta you can borrow.”

 

“I haven’t fired a gun since qualifying last year.” Henry groaned in response, shooting him a dirty look. “Cut me a little slack.” They both studied his target, two head shots – three to the chest, the remaining in one shoulder. “That’s still passing.”

 

“Yeah, if you’re blind.” Carlton pointed to the chest grouping. “These were your first shots, doing well – steady. Then you started to get tired and shifted up but continued to fire without rechecking your sights. That…” he traced his finger to the unfortunate right shoulder of the paper victim; “That’s just sad.”

 

“Your Glock is heavier than my Browning.” Henry defended himself. “I’m not used to strange weapons.”

 

“It’s your duty to familiarize yourself with every weapon in your potential arsenal. In the event of an emergency you’re going to need to be able to drop someone with every gun in the house.” Carlton replied in all seriousness.

 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t live at my house. The only gun in my house is my Browning which didn’t make the trip because I don’t pack for a zombie apocalypse.”

 

“Don’t be stupid, Henry. There’s no such thing as zombies, it’s the commies I worry about.”

 

Henry glared at him. “Anyway, there’s no rush. I’m sure by the time you move in, you’ll have gotten me back into proper form.”

 

Carlton paused, his fingers lingering on a fresh target as his hand clasped tighter on the butt of his .45. Licking his lips, he lowered his eyes and then looked away. “Yeah, well… anyway – you need to work on your stamina and the only way to do that is hard time. Here…” He grasped his pistol by the warm barrel and held it out for Henry. “Try this sweet baby on.”

 

“Carlton… it’s bigger than the 9mm…”

 

“You can handle it.” He replied firmly, a smile crossing his lips when Henry took it and held it easily. “We’ll try together.”

 

“What?” Henry muttered quietly, watching as Carlton clipped on a fresh target and pushed the button to send it out to the end of the lane. “What’re you doing?”

 

“Relax.” Lassiter stepped behind him, pressing close against Henry’s back and then guided him into proper stance. “Don’t think; just get a feel for it. I’ll do everything but pull the trigger.”

 

“I don’t…” Henry protested when Carlton lifted his arms into position, the press of his body entirely too comfortable. Reluctantly, he peered down the sights to perfect center – feeling the heat of Carlton’s breathing against his neck. “Carlton…”

 

“Breathe in.” He ordered calmly. Henry complied on reflex, and then Carlton followed with; “Discharge.”

 

***

 

Another five hours and they rolled into Amarillo an hour behind schedule to the not nearly as nice Holiday Inn Henry had reserved. While it wasn’t an old fashioned bed and breakfast, it’d make due better than fine when they were checking out pretty soon after breakfast anyway. After checking in and rinsing off the road dust, Carlton got to pick the restaurant - a local barbecue joint he smelled a mile out of town.

 

It was a mellow place, mostly families with small herds of chubby kids plowing through ribs and steaks. Their conversation was light, centered mostly on work and the car and how the trip was going so far. Carlton had managed to stretch himself out in the booth, both feet planted against the base of Henry’s seat when the waitress arrived with a slab of baby back ribs dripping with a savory house blend sauce.

 

“What are you doing?” Carlton deadpanned, looking up at Henry after sectioning off his half of the full rack.

 

Henry looked up innocently, tucking a large plastic rib bib into the collar of his t-shirt. “What?”

 

“Please tell me you’re not wearing a bib.”

 

“I don’t want to get sauce on my shirt.” Henry shrugged, slicing three large ribs off his end of the rack – avoiding the small dish of coleslaw and fries. “I’m not the only person wearing one.”

 

“The only person over six.”

 

Henry narrowed his eyes. “You’re not getting in that nice car covered in barbecue sauce.”

 

“And the simple solution to that is not to dive face-first into my dinner. I think I can handle myself just fine without the need to wrap plastic over my shirt.”

 

“Suit yourself. I’m not taking any chances.” Henry took a big bite and watched as Carlton worked his way through one meaty piece after another, stacking the short bones on his plate as he went. Four ribs in, the first big blob of warm sauce dripped down on his shirt, leaving a long dark red trail against his white short sleeved button down from his chest to a convenient wrinkle slightly above the table.

 

“Don’t you dare, Spencer.” Carlton narrowed his eyes, seeing the grin spread across Henry’s face.

 

“I didn’t say a word.”

 

“You were thinking it.”

 

“I’m thinking that I need to eat faster or you’re gonna finish mine for me.” Henry’s smirk didn’t fade as he continued with the meal.

 

Three more ribs and four more smudges of sauce later, Carlton polished off the last of the meat and plowed through his coleslaw, fries, and bread with equal gusto. “That was some good barbecue.”

 

“I can tell, you’re wearing it.” Henry wiped his hands and slipped off his bib, balling it up on the plate with his bones. “You look good in red.”

 

Carlton growled under his breath, “You jinxed me.”

 

“A jinx? I’m not sure what’s funnier – your shirt or the thought of you implying I somehow had something to do with you wearing your dinner.”

 

“Yeah… well, I’m gonna use the bathroom. Get the check, will you?”

 

Henry didn’t push it further, there’d be plenty of chances to tease him about his eating habits, instead he dug out his card and took the bill up to the register. He was still in line when Lassiter came out, small red wet spots splattering his shirt where he’d apparently tried and failed to rub out the sauce. “We’ll have to get some of that scrub on pre-treater on the way back to the hotel. Hit it with that and wash it in the sink, should come right out.”

 

“Pre-treater?” Carlton raised an eyebrow.

 

Henry nodded, seeing the look of true bewilderment in Carlton’s eyes, “Oh come on, I know you do your own laundry. You can’t possibly send everything out to a service on your budget.”

 

“Yeah, laundry in machine – soap on laundry – close lid – push button. Not hard.”

 

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Henry focused on the line waiting ahead of him so that they could pay their bill and get out of there. “And what do you do when you get a stain?”

 

“Buy a new shirt?”

 

Henry sighed loudly and shook his head. The man was borderline hopeless sometimes. “I’ll take care of the shirt.”

 

“Sure, whatever.” Carlton fished his wallet out and handed Henry his credit card. “I’ve got this.”

 

“No, I’ll take care of it.”

 

“You took care of the last one.”

 

“Yeah, and I’ll take care of this one.” Henry stood his ground, brushing Carlton’s hand away.

 

Carlton narrowed his eyes, finally thrusting his card toward the cashier when they reached the podium. “I’m paying.” He stated matter-of-factly, snatching the bill from Henry’s hand. “You, take care of my shirt.”

 

“I’ll take care of you.” Henry smiled slightly, his face softening at the thought. He meant it, too. It’d be ignored - but he really did. Waiting for the young woman to run the card, he reached up and gently wiped away a smudge of sauce that had been missed at the corner of Carlton’s mouth, and then licked it off his thumb.

 

Carlton froze and stared at him for a long moment, shaking it off when the woman at the podium thrust a pen into his hand to sign the slip. Once safely in the car, the top dropped down to look up at the late summer Texas sky, he asked; “What the hell was that?”

 

“What?” Henry turned over the motor and let the Chevy run a few moments before throwing her into gear.

 

“That thing, in the restaurant. What was that about?”

 

“I was paying the bill and you decided you had to.” Henry shrugged. “You got your way.”

 

“You wiped my face.”

 

Henry looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You had sauce on it.”

 

“You did that wiping my face touch thing.” Carlton grimaced, “Men don’t wipe each other’s faces, Henry. I’m pretty sure even flaming queers don’t wipe each other’s faces.”

 

“Don’t use that word, Carlton – it makes you look like an idiot.” Henry shot back, looking out the driver’s side window in an attempt to avoid the looming argument.

 

“I’ll use whatever words I want to, Henry. Queer. Sissy. Homo. I’m allowed to now.”

 

“Shut up, Carlton. You’re acting like an ass.” He threw the car in gear, grinding it between gears as he pulled out.

 

“I’m acting like an ass? You’re acting like my wife.” He paused for a second and then added; “No, wait – even Victoria knew you don’t just touch a guy like that in public in front of the whole world.”

 

“Maybe if she had been tender enough to do something like that you’d have stayed married to her and wouldn’t have to put up with the fact that – oh, sometimes I might do something that yeah… maybe comes off a little bit gay. Guess what, Carlton. We’re a little bit gay, and eventually you’re gonna have to be okay with that.”

 

“I’m fine with that.” He spat back, his voice taking on a much lower timbre. “I’m not fine with you feeling the need to tell the whole world that we’re a couple.”

 

“I didn’t tell anyone!” Henry shouted, redness creeping up around the back of his ears. “All I did was wipe a little bit of barbecue sauce off your face. You’re the one who’s turning it into some big thing like I licked your cheek and then made out with you over the podium.”

 

“It was an intimate gesture, Henry.”

 

“Yeah, it was. Maybe I like making intimate gestures because… oh, I don’t know… maybe I actually really care about you and didn’t even think about what I was doing as being a big deal.”

 

Carlton sighed and looked out at his side of the road, tapping his hand against the door panel. After an uncomfortably long pause, he said; “Okay… maybe I overreacted a little bit.”

 

“You think?”

 

“But, I want you to understand what I’m saying. I’m uncomfortable with that sort of thing in public.”

 

“It’s not like I’m asking you to hold my hand or anything.” Henry sighed as they pulled into the hotel parking. “Like I said, I didn’t even think about it, okay? I didn’t mean to set you off on this whole issue you have with me. It was automatic, like opening a door or pulling out a chair.”

 

“Yeah… well… just…” Carlton sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, dropping the subject as they got out of the car.

 

***

 

They left Amarillo somewhat early, but took their time – rolling into Tulsa with more than enough time to get in an entire afternoon at the gun show. They’d separated on Henry’s request; his motives there were somewhat different than Carlton’s. Henry headed toward the leather alley in search of a custom artist, whereas his partner made a beeline for the first burly guy with a barely-legal weapon strapped to his back. By the time the vendors started shutting down they’d reunited and decided it’d be best to get cleaned up before going for dinner.

 

Back at the hotel, Carlton was like a different man than he’d been the night before. Excited and riding the high that only came with obtaining a new firearm; he wrapped his arms around Henry from behind before the door had even locked behind them. “Mmm, I think I’m gonna call her Sally.” He grinned wide, squeezing Henry even tighter as he held the weapon under his nose. “Walther PPK, 1931 edition – easily ninety-five percent original finish. Minimal rust and pitting, matched magazine.” He let out a low moan, “You can practically smell the Nazi still on it.”

 

“Must have cost you a small fortune.” Henry smirked, pushing back against him easily. He didn’t have quite the same eye for collector’s weaponry, but if Carlton was happy – he was happy.

 

Carlton groaned again, rocking his hips. “That’s the best part, I got it for a song… easily half the value for this condition. Guy had no idea what he was selling off.”

 

Henry chuckled under his breath, feeling the eager push of Carlton’s pants against him. “Are you at least going to ask for permission to grope me?”

 

Freezing, Carlton pulled back slightly with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, a little bit excited. I’ve spent the last eight hours stripping, examining, pricing, and fondling some of the best weapons on the planet.” He inhaled deeply and kissed the back of Henry’s neck. “Besides, you smell like leather and gun oil. You know what that does to me.”

 

Laughing a little louder, Henry turned in his embrace, nuzzling up close against his vacation beard – which had already started to grow in disturbingly well. “So I can feel.”

 

Carlton wrapped his arms tighter around Henry’s back, clutching the pistol in both hands against his billiards themed Hawaiian shirt. “You haven’t complained yet.”

 

“Maybe I like smelling like gun oil and leather.”

 

He groaned again, letting out a small, surprised yelp when Henry’s hand brushed over the front of his jeans. “Henry…” He didn’t protest, but was a little confused when he thumbed open the button and gave a hard tug at the worn denim. “Mmm, Henry.”

 

“Much better.” He smirked playfully, kissing the bottom of his ear. “You… really, really like it, don’t you?”

 

“Mmmhmm.” He nodded against Henry’s face, already pushing himself up against the other man’s palm as it slid down between his boxers and the jeans – rubbing gently over his growing arousal. “It’s Friday.”

 

“I know. That’s what makes it spontaneous.”

 

Carlton groaned again, his eyes half lidded at the sensation of Henry’s palm squeezing him gently. “Can… can you even, I mean…”

 

“If you’re about to ask about erection issues, I’m gonna stop.”

 

“Right.”

 

Henry smirked when no further question came, and then backed Carlton up against a wall – bracing his free hand beside his lover’s head when his pants bunched down around his ankles. “Close your eyes, Carlton.”

 

“Henry…”

 

“Close your eyes.”

 

Carlton obeyed, letting out a low whine when the gentle rub was stopped only to be replaced by the sensation of Henry’s familiar palm pushing past his waistband and grasping him loosely. “Closed.”

 

“Good.” He spoke softly, leaning in close against his ear as he teased his lover with soft, even strokes against the worn cotton of his boxers. “Remember Albuquerque?”

 

“It was just the other day.” He breathed, pushing into the slow strokes eagerly. “I mean… yes?”

 

“Better.” Henry grinned. “You had your strong arms wrapped around me, holding me against the recoil of that heavy .45 as we killed our paper pal.”

 

“You did really good.” Carlton groaned again, Henry’s fingers grasping him tighter as he teased. “Really… really good.”

 

“I could feel you pushed against me, Carlton… all the way against me.”

 

A slight pink tinge colored the tips of his ears as his eyes pressed even more tightly shut. “Oh God… I… so I may have…”

 

“You were hard as a rock.” Henry said matter-of-factly, his strokes picking up speed as he let his body weight shift against his lover – pinning him against the wall. “You loved it, holding me… holding that gun… feeling the raw power every time you told me to pull the trigger.”

 

Carlton let out a mewling moan, his knees buckling slightly. “God yes.”

 

“You know what I was thinking?” His voice dropped down to a low purr and he began to roll his thumb hard over the tip of Carlton’s cock with each hard stroke. “I was thinking about dropping the clip… slapping in a fresh one, and then dropping to my knees.”

 

“Yeah?” He swallowed hard, a hollow sigh hiding another groan. “Let me blow off a few rounds?”

 

“While I blow you off.” Henry laughed, unable to help it – it just sounded silly. “Right there in the lane, just pop open those jeans and swallow you whole while you tear through that box of ammo.”

 

Carlton’s body trembled and he bucked his hips up into each harder, faster stroke. “God… Henry…”

 

“You like that, don’t you?” He pushed in closer, pressing his mouth close to Carlton’s ear as murmured; “And then once you’re nice and spent… I could bend you over the platform take you fast and hard right there… while you’ve got a snoot full of gunpowder and your ears are still ringing under your headgear.”

 

Carlton seized suddenly, his knees buckling inward as he slumped against Henry’s shoulder, digging the side of the Walther into his back – still rocking into the milking stroke even as he came over the top of the older man’s strong grasp. “Fuck, fuck… god… damn… Henry…”

 

“Shhh…” Henry gently kissed the bottom of his ear, slowing his strokes until a large, satisfying wet spot had spread across the front of Carlton’s shorts. “Relaxed enough to make it through dinner?”

 

Carlton leaned heavily against him and let out a soft chuckle. “Uh… yeah… I think so. Just got to change my shorts now…”

 

“Make sure you’ve got a good shirt and khakis out for tomorrow, you’re in the shootout.”

 

“I’m what?” He was pretty sure that he hadn’t heard Henry right. A shoot out? Not if he could help it.

 

Henry pulled away, walking him to the bed and letting him relax against it for a moment while he went to wash up. “Every year they do a big competition, tiered head to head paper targets at twenty-five yards. Point system. You’ll blow everyone else out of the water.”

 

“I… I don’t know, Henry. I’m at an unfair disadvantage. I’m a cop…”

 

“So are half the guys you’re up against.” Henry came out of the bathroom drying his hands. “Including me.”

 

***

 

Henry’s judgment had been right about the competition. Some of them were just basic sportsmen, some riflemen. He hadn’t mentioned that Carlton wouldn’t be using his weapon, that would have thrown him. In fact, Carlton had proven to be the only one who could adapt to the structure of the event. Each round you were given a different weapon that you had never held before. You had five minutes to acquaint yourself with it, and then you were put on an indoor lane and had to beat your opponent’s score against a stationary target with a sixty second timer.

 

Out of the five hundred entries, Henry had made it fairly far to the fourth bracket where he’d been given a magnum that kicked like a mule with each shot fired – eventually knocking him off target and dropping his score significantly. Carlton, on the other hand, seemed proficient in anything that was put in his hands; and progressed all the way through the ranks until it was just him and a German man named Robinson. After six perfect heats, the ante was upped and the target shifted back to fifty yards. What Robinson didn’t know was that Lassiter’s sweet spot was well in that range.

 

In the final heat, Lassiter won by one shot – through the head. Triumphant, pumping his fist and cheering as the crowd goaded him into unloading a victory clip into the target with the H&K – tearing the paper cleanly in half, Carlton was more than happy to take the prize. And then, smiling broadly, Henry took him by wrist to shake his hand – and then drew him in and kissed him. Slowly, the cheer died down to scattered applause until the gathered seemed to disperse at an awkwardly fast pace.

 

For a long moment, Carlton stood there in stunned silence, staring at Henry. After what seemed like an age, Henry asked; “What? You did a damn good job.”

 

Carlton shook his head. “I’m going to go sign for the prize and get my picture with the target.”

 

“Great, afterward we can go for drinks to celebrate!”

 

“No, no we can’t, Henry. Go… do something, just… go.” He sighed, shaking his head as he stepped away.

 

“What’s going on here, Carlton?” Henry followed, only to have his partner turn around and put a strong hand on his shoulder - pushing him back a step.

 

“We’ll talk at the hotel later.”

 

Henry shook his head, “We’ll talk now.”

 

“No, we won’t. Please, go.”

 

Henry reached out and grabbed his elbow only to have it knocked away. “What, you’re mad at me for kissing you, now?”

 

“I’m mad because you humiliated me in front of hundreds of strangers.”

 

“We were celebrating!” He shot back.

 

“Yeah, and now we’re not. Now I’m going to go crawl into a hole until we can get the hell out of here.” His eyes widened, he was completely serious about it. “Leave me alone, Henry. I really don’t want to deal with you right now.”

 

“Well… I…” Henry considered pursuing him as he stomped off towards the sponsor’s booth, but he knew it would only make matters worse. With a frustrated sigh, he packed up the digital camera he’d photographed all of Carlton’s shootouts with and went back to the hotel to wait it out.

 

After an hour of waiting, Henry had taken the car back to the hotel – if Carlton wanted a ride back he could call. Eventually, he’d given up completely and went down the street for dinner and returned with still no sign of Carlton; he wasn’t even answering his calls or text messages. Still, Henry knew he was in the right.

 

Some hours later, just before midnight, Henry woke to the sound of dull pounding on the hotel room door. He’d fallen asleep in a comfortable chair by their window overlooking the parking lot, waiting to see him walk up or get out of a taxi. “Open up, Henry. The car’s here, I know you’re in there. You have the damn key.” Carlton’s voice grumbled loudly on the other side.

 

Henry opened the door only to be hit with a scotch scented Carlton pushing him out of the way as he stripped off his jacket. “Oh, so you finally decided to come back.” Henry grumbled loudly.

 

“Don’t want to hear it.” Carlton sat down on his side of the bed, dropping his trophy beside the bed followed by his shoes and socks. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to talk about anything.” He laughed, his head bobbing side to side – clearly intoxicated. “Maybe if you want to say you’re sorry for making an ass of me… we can talk about that.”

 

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Henry replied easily, watching him strip off his tie with some effort, weaving side to side despite being seated. “You were an ass well before today.”

 

“Oh. I see how this is then. It’s my fault. Fine. Whatever.” Carlton’s head lowered and he fumbled open the top two buttons of his shirt – not bothering to open it all the way before pulling it up and over his head. “Sleep it is.”

 

“You’re drunk.” Henry sat down on his own side of the bed, slowly working open the buttons of his shirt.

 

“I know. That’s what happens when I go to a bar where they have really nice scotch and people that leave me alone.”

 

“And you don’t want to talk about it?”

 

“Ding – ding – ding.” Carlton replied with a mocking shake of his head. “Don’t even think about taking advantage of me in this state.”

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

 

***

 

Carlton slept late, as expected. Henry had gathered their clothes and folded them into the ‘dirty laundry’ suitcase and laid out a fresh set after getting ready to go. By the time Carlton had woken up enough to scuff over to the stained coffee maker and poured out the last paper cup, Henry had already gotten everything ready for them to go. The plan was to check out in the morning so they could make Amarillo early but that wasn’t looking like it was going to happen that way.

 

“I’ll make more coffee while you’re in the shower.” Henry muttered quietly, pressing an open travel sized bottle of aspirin into Carlton’s hand. “Want me to go pick up some Alka-Seltzer?”

 

Glaring with bleary, red-rimmed eyes, Carlton shook his head. “No, ‘m fine.” He grumbled, taking the aspirin with a swallow of the bitter hotel coffee before padding off to the shower.

 

They were five hours behind schedule by the time they rolled out of Oklahoma, and Henry drove in near silence – breaking it only to ask pedestrian questions about where to stop and eat or if he could see the map app on Carlton’s phone. Still a few hours late, they checked into the hotel before considering dinner.

 

“Where are we going?” Henry asked, changing into a clean set of clothes.

 

Carlton shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe that barbecue place we hit last time? That was really good.” He was being civil. Quiet, but civil. Which for him was quite a step considering he was still making it very clear he felt he was wronged.

 

“Oh, the place where I wiped sauce off your face – think we can make it through the door without setting off the homo alarms?”

 

“Stop it, Henry. You’re acting like a child.”

 

“Says the guy who’s been giving me the silent treatment since yesterday.”

 

He didn’t respond right away, instead he sat down on the bed and held his head in his hands for a long moment. Then finally, he lifted his head and blurted; “You know what, Henry… that’s really fresh after what you did. You know how I feel about being in public… like… you know…”

 

“Like a couple?”

 

“Well, yeah… sort of.” He sighed loudly. “I can’t be like that in public and you know it.”

 

Henry shook his head and threw himself down in an armchair across the room. “Yeah, well… pardon me for sharing my excitement about your achievement.”

 

“You could have shared it with a handshake… or maybe a hug. Did it ever occur to you that a hug would be better?”

 

“I don’t know, you think you can catch queer from hugging?”

 

“You know that’s not it, Henry. This isn’t about that. I’m not comfortable with affection… in public.”

 

Henry almost added; ‘or in private’ and thought better of it, instead he only sighed and closed his eyes. Frustrated, he said; “Fine, I’m sorry. Maybe I just thought that since we’re somewhere nobody knows us, nobody cares, nobody can talk and even if they do we’ll be gone before we ever hear about it… maybe we could be a real couple.”

 

Carlton grumbled low in his throat, covering his face again as he replied; “We are a real couple, Henry. Okay? We don’t have to shove it in everyone’s faces.”

 

“We’re not shoving anything. It was a tiny peck on the lips.” Henry replied with an angry flush creeping up behind his ears. “Maybe I want to be normal for once, okay? Maybe I thought if we were out of Santa Barbra we could be together in public.”

 

“Yeah, well… you’re wrong.” Carlton barely looked up at him before dropping his head down again. “You knew when this whole thing started that we can’t be a cutesy little couple. You want a wife, go get a goddamn wife.”

 

“I don’t want a wife.” Henry laughed without a bit of humor. “I want you, okay? We’ve been together for what… seven months now? I haven’t been this happy in a long time. That’s why I’m pushing like this… I think we have it in us to make this work out.”

 

“We don’t.”

 

“We do. It’s not like you think it is, Carlton. We’re normal people – we’re not like those guys in the movies or in that damn parade. We’re the normal ones.” He tried to use reason and logic, to no avail. “Aren’t you happy when we’re together?”

 

“It’s not like that, Henry. We can’t be like that. I can’t do that.”

 

Henry quieted, taking a deep breath before asking; “Why not?”

 

“This isn’t a public thing, Henry. And if you can’t deal with it then we need to stop right now.”

 

“Carlton…”

 

“No. I’m not gonna keep leading you on if that’s where you really think this is going.”

 

“Don’t… don’t do this. Not on our vacation.” Henry felt the desperation welling up in his gut and tried to force it back down. “Why don’t we just go back to the way it was before… the incident… and we’ll talk more after we get back to California.”

 

“Nothing’s going to change.” Carlton stood up, looking down at him a long moment before offering a hand to help him out of the chair. “I’m not going to change, just like that.”

 

“I don’t want you to change.”

 

Carlton nodded slowly and let out a deep breath. “Split another rack of ribs?”

 

Henry let the argument sink in, refusing to let it ruin the remainder of their trip. After another drawn out pause, he let Carlton help him up before asking; “Gonna wear a bib this time?”

 

“Yeah… fine.”

 

***

 

Texas stayed pretty damn quiet and by the time they stopped for food and gas in Albuquerque it was pretty safe to say they’d slid well beyond amicable silence to outright not talking to each other. Not that there was much left to say, after the argument it was pretty well understood that they weren’t in agreement on the course of whatever they had going on.

 

“Gotta hit the john, you mind filling her up?” Henry asked quietly when they pulled into the service station.

 

“What, you can’t wait until we get to the restaurant?”

 

Henry raised both eyebrows at him and slammed the door closed between them. “I won’t be long.”

 

“Fine.” Carlton paid at the pump and set it in action. The problem with the old girl was as beautiful and comfortable as she was… the Chevy had a bottomless pit for a stomach. Ten bucks in, his phone buzzed in his pocket. “What’s going on, O’Hara?”

 

“Nothing.” She replied quickly, “Just… thought I’d check in on you guys. I haven’t heard from you since you left.”

 

“That’s why it’s a vacation; I don’t have to talk to anybody.”

 

“Well, what’s up? Tell me all about it!” Juliet sounded bored, and clearly must be to be calling on her lunch break.

 

“I won a trophy for shooting. And… uh… we’re in New Mexico. Should make Flagstaff in about six hours and bed down there. Back home by Tuesday afternoon. I’ll be back at work on Wednesday.” He leaned against the side of the car as the pump ran. “Not really much to tell…”

 

“You’ve been on a road trip for almost a week – I’m sure you’ve got more stories to tell.”

 

“Not really.” Even with the stuff he could tell her, there wasn’t much to say. It had been a pretty laid back trip until Henry started pushing. After a long pause, he added; “Guess I’m sort of fighting with the old man.”

 

“What, with Henry? What’d you do?”

 

“Nothing.” He replied defensively. “We had a disagreement. Or two.” Or just one really big one that sort of affected everything.

 

“You’re being defensive, Carlton. I know that means you’re lying. Spill it.”

 

“I didn’t do anything wrong. He overstepped a very clear boundary.” He caught himself and quickly jumped on the thought; “Our friendship doesn’t really work out in public.” Carlton turned his head, looking around to make sure Henry couldn’t have heard – if he had heard it, the chances of reconciling anything were slim to none. Thankfully, he was alone.

 

Juliet let out a soft sigh; “Why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” She paused and he heard her car door closing. “You know I’m your partner and you can tell me anything… anything at all.”

 

“Nothing’s wrong. We’re just really different people and he doesn’t understand that I don’t want the same thing he does.” He licked his lips, “Out of our friendship, of course. I mean, I want to be more… private. And he wants to share things… with others.”

 

She choked; “Oh god…” After a long cough, she managed to recover. “Sorry… coffee is not a replacement for air. Oh my. God. Okay, what exactly are you talking about with this sharing thing?”

 

“Our friendship.” He whispered, looking around again as the pump clicked off. “He wants to be friendly around other people.”

 

“What, you mean like… affectionate?”

 

He hung up the nozzle and went back to the passenger seat, waiting for Henry with one eye on the bathroom door. “I didn’t say that.”

 

She sighed loudly. “Okay, Carlton… if you want my advice you’re gonna have to be honest with me. What’s going on here?”

 

The bathroom door opened and Henry came out still wiping his hands on his pants. “Look, O’Hara – thank you for checking in on us, but we’re fine. Really. I’ll be back at work on Wednesday and I’ll bring in my trophy for you to see.”

 

She let out another agitated sigh. “Carlton, listen, okay – can I just say one thing?”

 

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

 

"If it's worth being in the relationship, it's worth sharing it."

 

“Right… well… thanks for that _enlightening_ thought, O’Hara. I’ll see you Wednesday.” He looked up with a smile and hung up the phone, pocketing it as Henry slid back behind the wheel. “O’Hara, calling to check up on us.”

 

“Oh.” Henry nodded, “Did you tell her about the shootout?” He turned over the motor, waiting until it hit the perfect purr before throwing it into gear and turning towards the restaurant.

 

“I told her I got a trophy for shooting.”

 

Another quiet fell between them and then Henry asked; “Did she say anything about Shawn?”

 

“He’s not in prison yet. Other than that we just talked about work.”

 

“What’s going on at the station?” A small smile crossed Henry’s lips for the first time since the argument started.

 

Carlton looked out his window and wished he’d lowered the top – as it was he couldn’t justify it until after they’d had lunch and were headed back to the highway. “What, is this an interrogation now? Nothing is going on. Why does there always have to be something going on?”

 

“You know what; just forget I said anything at all. Clearly I can’t even talk to you when you’re like this.” Henry waved a dismissive hand at him. “You’re cranky and need a good lunch to get you through to Arizona.”

 

“I’m cranky because you’re asking me all kinds of questions. My partner just wanted to know what we’ve been doing.”

 

“And that’s great, fine. Whatever, Carlton. Just forget it.”

 

“No, you’re using that tone with me and I won’t be talked to like this.”

 

Henry sighed; “Tone? Really? What tone is that?”

 

“It’s your little ‘Shawn did something stupid that nobody’s supposed to know about’ tone – and don’t think I haven’t caught on to that.” He snorted. “You will not treat me like your son, Henry.”

 

Henry was quiet for a long moment, trying to pick out what was really going on from the threads of Carlton’s frustration. “So that’s your problem now, you think I’m treating you like a kid?”

 

“Well, you are.” He deflected, tilting his chin toward a little roadhouse not far from the onramp. “We should eat there.”

 

Rolling up slowly, Henry cautiously eyed the line of motorcycles outside. “You sure you want to eat there?”

 

“If it’s good enough for bikers, it’s good enough for me.”

 

***

 

They were in the same bungalow at the bed and breakfast in Flagstaff they had stayed at what seemed like a lifetime before, but instead of the ice cream and lovemaking they curled up back to back – staring out at the floral wallpaper as they waited to fall asleep on bellies full of too much bison. Well after midnight, Henry heard Carlton cough and then groan softly and realized he wasn’t the only one still awake.

 

“Can we talk about it?” He asked quietly, rolling over to face Carlton’s broad shoulders and back. “Or are we just going to pick on each other until we’re back to where we started with the added humiliation of a history together?”

 

For a long moment, Carlton didn’t respond – didn’t even move, but once Henry had begun to think that maybe he was sleeping after all, he said; “What do you want me to say?”

 

“I don’t want you to say anything but what’s really going on here.”

 

“Trying to sleep. We’re driving home tomorrow.”

 

Henry sighed, “So it’s just over like that?”

 

“Sure.” He replied quietly, a clear pang of hurt in his voice.

 

“Carlton…” Henry pressed close against him, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him tight. “That’s not an option.”

 

“I beg to differ. It’s always an option.”

 

Letting his chin rest against his companion’s shoulder, Henry sighed again. “We can make this work.”

 

He was silent again, his breathing slow and ragged with the occasional hitch as he tried to piece together what he’s thinking. “Henry… you have… you’ve pushed me places that I never wanted to go.”

 

“What, Oklahoma?”

 

He sighed, louder this time. “You know I’m not talking geographic locations here. The trip has been good, I like the trip.”

 

“So you’ve grown… that’s a good thing, right? I mean… people change, they learn from their mistakes.”

 

“I don’t make mistakes. And I don’t change, Henry.” He slowly rolled onto his back – staring up at the shadows playing across the ceiling. “I’m happy.” He murmured, “I mean, before… you know what… I was happy just being with you the way we were. I don’t understand why you want to change that.”

 

The guilt settled in hard and fast, and Henry found his favorite niche against Carlton’s side with his head on his shoulder. “I just think we’re ready for more.”

 

“Why? What could we possibly gain by putting ourselves out there for the ridicule and scorn of others?” Carlton laughed without humor and closed his eyes. “We have it really good; I have a close friend that I can trust and someone to go fishing with and have a beer with that actually enjoys spending time with me. We fulfill each other physically, and everything works out just fine. What more could you possibly gain from public humiliation?”

 

“So that’s your problem?” Henry replied quietly, lowering his eyes when it hit him.

 

“Yes.”

 

Henry sat up quickly, turning his back on him. Both feet hit the floor, but he didn’t get up – it wasn’t like he could just leave. Well, he could – but he wouldn’t. “You could have told me, you know.” Carlton let out a non-committal grunt and Henry continued; “You think you’re the first person I care about that’s ashamed to be associated with me?”

 

“What, wait… what are you talking about?” Carlton furrowed his brow, sitting up behind him.

 

“I get it, okay? I know I’m not the kind of person that people want to know. I like things that I’m not supposed to like and yeah, I’m old. Okay? I get it; you don’t want to be the guy sleeping with the old geezer.”

 

“You think this is about you? Jesus, Henry…”

 

“Let me guess, you don’t want people to think I’m your father?”

 

“Henry!” He growled, effectively silencing the older man. “This isn’t about you, okay? I don’t give a damn that you happen to be a little older than I am. And I really don’t care that you like those terrible shirts and reality TV and I really don’t even care that you sometimes do things that are quite frankly, a little bit embarrassing.”

 

“Then what are you talking about?”

 

“It wouldn’t matter if you were a woman.” He replied reluctantly, letting out a loud sigh. “I’ve been trying, all right… just… you don’t know what it’s like.”

 

“I don’t?” Henry turned towards him and sarcastically replied; “Because I was never married to a woman that I love very much and I don’t have a family that doesn’t know about this part of me because I have no way of explaining it without sounding like some kind of pervert.” He caught Carlton’s eyes on him and said; “You think you’re the only one who has to change to make it past just being a couple guys that screw around?”

 

He was quiet again, but Carlton pushed up beside his companion on the edge of the bed, letting his hand rest on Henry’s thigh – toying with a zipper on his cargo shorts. Finally, he said; “It’s not the same for you. You don’t have anything to lose in this, worst case scenario you get a little bit of heckling for being queer.” He unzipped an empty pocket, slipping his fingers inside absently. “People find out about me and suddenly I’m the ‘gay detective’ like I’m some sort of stupid role model all of a sudden and it has nothing to do with being the youngest head detective or having the highest score at the range for ten years running… nothing to do with being damn good at my job - and we both know that’s not who I am. Who I sleep with does not define me, and I’m not about to suddenly get noticed just because I’m not exactly who people think I am.”

 

Henry chuckled unexpectedly, “You’re exactly who people think you are. Just with this other thing.”

 

“Yeah, well it’s easy for you to say.” He lowered his head. “My mother came out at fifty-three, Henry. Fifty-three, do you have any idea what that’s like?”

 

Henry raised an eyebrow and nodded; “Yeah, actually… I think I can imagine that pretty well…”

 

Carlton continued, undaunted by the obvious; “I told her I wanted her and her girlfriend dead. And I wanted that. My head was such a messed up place before I went into the academy that all I cared about at that moment was the effect it had on me.”

 

“You were a kid…” Henry wasn’t following his logic, but tried to stick with the thought.

 

He exhaled loudly through his nose. “She was happy, and I couldn’t deal with it.”

 

“That was a long time ago…”

 

Carlton cut him off again; “She’d probably smack me to know that now I’m all in love with some guy – especially a guy like you, no offense but you’d really hit it off well.”

 

“Wait… wait, back it up a second. Did you just say what I think you said?”

 

“Yeah, my Mom’s gay too, okay. Everyone’s gay… it’s a whole big homo conspiracy.”

 

“Shut up.” Henry cut him off short, “I mean that you love me. You’re in love with me?”

 

Carlton’s eyes widened as he went back over what he’d said, damn conversations while tired always seemed to get the worst out of him. “Not like… you know, not like what you’re thinking. Just in the way that maybe says that I would be okay with maybe going a little further but I can’t do that.”

 

“You can.”

 

“No, Henry. That’s the problem. That’s the whole reason we’re arguing at all. You kiss me here I’m okay, you kiss me out in the mostly empty parking lot I get really nervous and you kiss me in front of hundreds of people at a gun show and I want to curl up and die.”

 

“What if I don’t?”

 

“What?”

 

Henry shrugged; “What if I don’t do that anymore. What if we keep everything you’re not comfortable with strictly confined to nothing more public than a parking lot?”

 

“So it would be the same as it was before?”

 

“But we’ll agree to only see each other and spend more time together than a couple times a week to have sex.”

 

“So, like dating?”

 

“No, like a relationship…” Henry gently settled his hand on top of Carlton’s, “And when you feel like you want to do something that would normally make you uncomfortable you have my full permission to do as you please.”

 

Carlton looked down at his bare feet and then gently nudged his leg against Henry’s. It didn’t sound half bad. Maybe he could work with that. Feeling better than he had in days, a slight grin tilted his lips. He felt Henry’s weight lean against his shoulder and then leaned back against him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you, Papa Bear.”

 

Henry’s hand squeezed his tightly and he echoed, “Love you too.”

 

He laughed again, the humor back it would seem. “Can we go to bed now? We’re supposed to check out in about seven hours.”

 

***

 

They didn’t talk about the situation after Arizona, didn’t need to really – they’d both said what they needed to say. Back at home, Santa Barbra was still standing and didn’t seem any worse for wear in their absence. They stopped at Carlton’s first, unpacked and then started working on settling back into life. Henry had laid out Carlton’s luggage and was sorting it back out into what hadn’t been worn and was still clean, and what was ready for the wash, when he happened on a somewhat heavy box wrapped tightly in a black plastic bag.

 

“This something special?” Henry held it up as he asked, letting out a soft laugh when Carlton smiled wide and nodded.

 

“I think so.” Carlton chuckled, “It’s yours. Open it up.”

 

“What did you get me?” He raised an eyebrow, peeling open the taped layers of plastic. “And whose bright idea was it to wrap something the size of a kid’s shoebox in a garbage bag?”

 

“Needed to be moisture tight... and I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t see it.”

 

“Oh, a surprise gift? You really shouldn’t have…” He managed to shuck off the plastic down to the black plastic gun case. “You got me a gun safe?”

 

Carlton rolled his eyes, settling on the bed and removing the half unpacked suitcase. “Open it. Password is 9-1-1.”

 

“Original.” Henry raised an eyebrow as he thumbed in the numbers and opened the lock-catch. Inside was the familiar nickel plated .45 Desert Eagle hardballer. “Your .45? You’re giving me your .45?”

 

He shifted again and nodded. “I was thinking about what you said at the range, in Albuquerque. Maybe we could… slowly… start to integrate some aspects…” He stumbled over his words; “It’s a part of me for you take care of.”

 

Henry’s ears warmed and he lowered his head; “I… I don’t know what to say, Carlton.”

 

“That’s not all.” He added quietly, “I also think that maybe, over the next few months… if you want to, we could… maybe… you know… just a start, mind you…”

 

“If you want to leave some stuff at my house just say it.” A thin smile spread across his lips and he held the weapon fondly for a long moment before locking it back in the case.

 

“Maybe not ‘stuff’, but… I don’t know. Maybe I could leave a suit and a couple ties so Juliet doesn’t harass me when I come to a crime scene in the previous day’s clothes. And a toothbrush and some bathroom stuff…”

 

“Sure, anything you feel comfortable with.”

 

Carlton smiled, “And you can leave a suit and maybe some clothes in the bottom left drawer of my dresser.”

 

“That’s… really specific.”

 

With a shrug, Carlton answered the unasked question; “I may have cleared some things out of it before the trip.”

 

Henry’s smile spread; “May have?”

 

“Just a thought.” He shrugged, peeling off his sweaty shirt. “Anyway, I’m hitting the shower.” He ran a thoughtful hand through his beard. “Then I really should shave…”

 

“Want me to stick around for a bit?”

 

Slowly, Carlton smiled again and tugged at the bottom of one leg of Henry’s shorts. “You could join me.”

 

“Oooh, a sexy shower?” Henry didn’t waste time by questioning it, his fingers were already popping buttons when he asked; “On a Tuesday?”

 

“Scandalous, I know. You’ve changed me, Henry Spencer.”

 

Henry shouldered off his shirt and let Carlton tug down his shorts. “I know, sex on a Tuesday… next thing you know I’ll have you wearing tie-dye and eating sushi.”

 

“I don’t mind the sushi you make… I know how fresh your fish is.”

 

Slipping off his boxers, Henry stared down at him. “You realize you mentioned the shower and I’m the one naked here.”

 

“Just admiring…” Carlton chuckled and pushed up on his feet, stripping off the rest of his clothes as Henry left to get the water started. By the time he stepped into the shower behind his lover it was nice and warm, ready for him. “You know, that was a really nice vacation. I mean, we spent a lot of it sort of fighting and I did get really hammered that one night… but on the whole it’s probably the fourth best vacation I’ve ever had.”

 

“Really?” Henry half-laughed, turning to face him in the small shower/bath combo. “What were the other three?”

 

Carlton stroked his beard again, considering the question. Once his hair was nice and wet, he added a generous dollop of shampoo with conditioner and started scrubbing while he replied; “The J. Edgar Hoover Memorial Museum in 1996, Reno in ’94, and Disneyland… ’82.”

 

“Disneyland?” Henry quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t really seem like the Disneyland type…”

 

“I was a kid.” He shrugged and nuzzled close against Henry’s cheek, enjoying the rasp of Henry’s stringy ten day overgrowth against his own neatly groomed vacation beard.

 

“Guess it’s just hard to remember you used to be a kid.” Henry laughed, wrapping his wet arms around Carlton’s chest.

 

Carlton wiggled against him, eyes closed as he rinsed out the soap. “You remember when I was a rookie and can’t think of me being a little punk that would one day be considering shacking up with you?”

 

“Shut up.” Henry grinned, pressing a kiss against his ear. “What’d you say last night?”

 

“Said a lot of things last night.”

 

“You know what I want to hear.” He groaned softly, rocking his hips against him. “Please?”

 

“Mmm, that you don’t know what it’s like to be in my position?” Carlton tried to be funny, but the fact of the matter was that wasn’t really funny at all.

 

“Carlton.” Henry chastised, backing him away from the water and against the back wall of the shower. “Come on, just say it…”

 

Carlton grinned wide, and then kissed him hard. “I love you.” He broke away, the words barely a whisper. As if renewed by the confession, he pressed tight against his lover, both hands stroking beads of water down his back. “Henry?” he asked quietly.

 

Henry looked up at him, still smiling, “And I love you.”

 

“I know.” He kissed him again, harder and more eager than before. “I want you.”

 

Carlton nuzzled against him and Henry let out a low groan. His hand slipped easily down Carlton’s side and across his thigh to rub gently over his length – letting out a small groan when it nudged back into his palm. “You sure do…” he murmured softly. “Mmm…”

 

“Henry… Henry…” He whispered, swallowing hard. Wiggling his whole body, he managed to turn around in the small confines – baring himself to Henry. “Please.”

 

It took him a second to put it together, but in a way it made sense. Carlton was feeling vulnerable, exposed but in a good way. Letting himself take the lead, Henry pressed close against his back, simply holding him and exploring the back of his neck with his lips – feeling each muscle move against his chest and belly as he stroked over the outer curve of his hip. “Tell me what you want.”

 

“You know what I want.” Carlton growled gently, not angry in the least but demanding. “Please, Henry…”

 

Henry groaned and nuzzled against the back of his neck. “Give me a minute…” He whispered, stroking his free hand over his own cock, the frustration settling in his belly as tried to get it to respond when it didn’t want to.

 

Trying to help, Carlton pushed back against him – a soft near-whimper catching in his throat. “Love you, Papa Bear…”

 

Henry whined low and loud, and then parted Carlton’s legs with his foot – quickly working his hand against the cleft of his ass, fingers finding their mark and sliding into place slow but easily. “Show me.” He whispered, working him with their familiar pace, willing his body to cooperate with his desire.

 

Carlton moaned loudly, his face pressed tight against the shower wall. One fist pounded gently against the tile while the other stroked hard and fast over his cock. He’d forgotten just how good Henry was with his hands.

 

Abandoning the effort to get himself hard, Henry focused his efforts on his lover – rocking his palm against the solid resistance until he felt the familiar clench and throb of his lover’s body. “I know you’re close, come on…”

 

Carlton whined, grinding back against the sensation, rolling his hand hard from base to tip until he felt his knees begin to give way. And then panting, moaning loudly in the small tiled bathroom, he shot his load against the shower wall.

 

Juliet let herself in, Henry’s truck was still in the drive and she was pretty sure she heard shouting. Weapon drawn, she paced across the living room until she could hear the din in the bathroom – what was happening clearly obvious even over the drum of the shower. “Oh God…” She gasped, eyes wide and staring at the closed bathroom door. “They are. Oh God. Oh. My….”

 

“God…” Carlton’s voice rang out loud and clear, sending a shiver down Juliet’s spine. The water was turned off followed by the muffled sound of gentle laughter and loud kisses. Unsure of what to do in that sort of amazingly awkward situation, Jules holstered her weapon and stepped back – eyes still firmly locked on the door even as the knob turned and it was opened outward. At first she wasn’t seen, clearly. Carlton tied off his robe, facing into the bathroom – Henry’s arms wrapped around his waist as he kissed him again. “Mmm, you go ahead and shave, Papa Bear – I’m gonna cherish mine through one more meal.”

 

“Oooh, you should call that Chinese place. I’ll have my usual.” Henry’s voice answered, tender and relaxed.

 

“Aww, I thought you were gonna cook for me tonight. I’m sick of eating out.”

 

“Oh, you’ll eat out…” Henry growled suggestively and pulled him in close for another kiss. “Stay over at the house tomorrow after work, I’ve got some salmon in the freezer – I’ll make those little cakes you like.”

 

He moaned, and Juliet covered her mouth to hide a gasp… they really should have noticed her standing there, but were clearly too wrapped up in what they were doing. “Mmm, with the white sauce and peas? Please God say white sauce and peas.”

 

“Anything you want.” Henry grinned, turning just enough for his eyes to catch Juliet standing there in plain view. “Carlton…” he swallowed hard.

 

“Mmm, you bet your ass I’m eating out tonight…” Carlton murmured, pulling on the lapels of Henry’s short white robe. “And I’ll order take out.”

 

“Carlton.” Henry repeated, looking from him to just over his shoulder and then back again. “It’s not what it looks like.”

 

Carlton’s eyes went wide and he stared straight ahead. “Please God tell me my mother isn’t standing there.”

 

“No…” Henry answered.

 

“Shawn?”

 

“Uh-uh.”

 

He tried to think of who else would have a key to his house and dropped his head, not even bothering to look at him for a response. “O’Hara.”

 

“I’ll just be heading out…” Jules butted in quietly, “I really, really didn’t mean to interrupt anything…”

 

“How much of that did you hear?” Carlton asked, staring down at Henry’s feet.

 

She swallowed hard and forced herself to tell the truth. “Just a little bit before you turned the shower off. Or… Henry turned it off… or whatever…”

 

“There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for what you think you just heard…” Carlton thrust himself upright, turning on his heels with a grimace as he stared her down. “See, there was a problem with the… knobs on the shower…”

 

“Stop trying to lie, Carlton.” Jules groaned. “I know what you were doing in there.”

 

“No, no… God, no… tell her what we were really doing… Henry…”

 

Henry cleared his throat and crossed his arms, a full red flush up the back of his ears and across the top of his scalp. “We, uh… we were…” He sighed, “Screw it. It was exactly what it sounded like… probably a lot worse than what it sounds like it was.”

 

“Henry!” Carlton shouted, shooting him a dirty look. “Just for that… I’m not ordering Chinese…”

 

“But you’re still eating out, right?” Jules joked, the realization of the innuendo hitting her entirely too late. “Oh god. Ew… no… I am not going to think about that. Carlton! I just came to drop off the file for the John Doe that I will be meeting with in the morning, I thought maybe if you’ve got a few minutes tonight you can look over it and meet me at the coroner’s office.”

 

“Yes!” Carlton jumped on the out quickly, anything to get off the awkward subject, “Yes, right… John Doe. I’ll meet you there bright and early, say… eight?”

 

“Eight. Right. Great.” She nodded, “So, I take it everything got sorted out fine on the trip?”

 

“Just fine. Eight o’clock. Have Woody put the coffee on.” Carlton swallowed hard. “Henry, if you would excuse us for a moment – there are a fresh set of your pants in the bedroom if you would kindly put them on…”

 

“No, no! I’m leaving, honest. You guys just… go back to whatever you’re doing… I really didn’t mean to interrupt.”

 

“No, Juliet. You should stay.” Henry cut in. “We should talk about this.”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Henry.” Carlton muttered through gritted teeth. “Go get some pants.”

 

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.” Henry licked his lips. “Things have just been really touch and go for the last few months and I should have said something while you were helping me plan the trip, but I didn’t want to without Carlton’s approval.”

 

“Which I wouldn’t have given, you know this is supposed to be private.”

 

“Guys, it’s fine… I kind of already figured it out. Carlton, why do you think I tried to tell you that you can tell me anything?” Juliet raised both eyebrows.

 

“She said that?” Henry asked. “When did she say that?”

 

Carlton groaned, moving away from the bathroom door and stomping to his armchair before collapsing in it. “When she called while we were in Albuquerque.”

 

“He mentioned that you guys were kind of having a little argument and I tried to let him know that it’s okay if he wants to talk about it without hiding it because I’m fine with it…” Juliet echoed his frustrated groan, following Carlton to the sitting room. “And you know you can trust me because I’m your partner – if you can trust me with your life why can’t you tell me that you’re seeing someone?”

 

“It’s not that easy, O’Hara. Just… drop it, okay? I don’t want to talk about this.”

 

“He’s coping, Juliet. It’s not easy for him to deal with the fact that our… our relationship, I guess, isn’t exactly typical.”

 

“I told you already, it isn’t about the gay thing – it’s about being known for the gay thing. Who I sleep with means absolutely nothing to anyone but me and them.” Carlton growled loudly, rising up out of his chair, “I am not going to put up with being special because I’m different. Any merit I get should be based on my exemplary work record, not because I was ‘brave’ and ‘came out’ or any of that crap.”

 

“Okay, Carlton – I’m only gonna say this once, and it’s only because I care.” Juliet stepped closer, looking from where Henry lingered in his short robe to Carlton hunched over his chair. “But do you really expect some kind of award for not being straight? I mean… hello, this is Southern California – nobody cares who you sleep with or if you’re out.” She gave him an incredulous look; clearly it was something she was going to hold in her arsenal for a while to come. “Last year the head detective in Pasadena rode the head float in the pride parade wearing assless chaps and fairy wings… and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a trophy he was waving.”

 

“I don’t even want to know how you know that.” Carlton shook his head slowly.

 

She rolled her eyes, “It was on the community portal page for like a week. You couldn’t miss it.”

 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could.” He blinked several times. “Anyway, this has been a rather fun and humiliating experience that I plan to get behind me with several fingers of whiskey. I will be seeing you bright and early… and I assume that I can expect not a word of this will be breathed to another living soul.”

 

“Not even Shawn.” Henry added, swallowing hard. “Especially not Shawn.”

 

“He probably already knows. You know, that whole…” Carlton waved his hand dismissively. “I mean, really – what are the odds he doesn’t?”

 

“He doesn’t want to know and I plan talking to him about it when the time is right.” Henry muttered quietly.

 

“How much doesn’t he know?” Juliet asked.

 

Henry shifted on his bare feet and rubbed a hand nervously behind his ears. “He doesn’t know any of it… at least not that he’s let on. It’s not exactly something that we talk about.”

 

“So he doesn’t know you’re gay?”

 

“I’m not gay.” Henry shot back. “It’s sort of… situational.”

 

“But you never bothered to tell your son this?” Carlton raised an eyebrow.

 

Henry sighed and shifted again, shaking his head. “There’s just… there’s never been a good time to talk to him about it and I never thought it’d be an issue.” He rubbed both hands over his eyes and then shoved them in the pockets of his robe. “Never thought I’d be this crazy about someone.”

 

Juliet let out a soft ‘aww’ and then swore at the loud chirp of her cellphone. “Speak of the Devil.” She whispered, answering it. “Shawn! Hi… yes, we’re still on for dinner. No, I just stopped at Carlton’s to drop off some files.” She paused and laughed, “No, they’re here – yes, I’ll tell your Dad. No. God. Shawn! I’ll see you in an hour, okay?”

 

They both watched in thinly veiled fear, letting out a sigh of relief when she hung up without a word. “Henry, Shawn wants me to tell you that you’re out of peanut butter. And cookies. And he took the liberty of rescuing your ice cream from certain freezer burn.”

 

Henry scoffed, “Yeah, figured as much. Look, thank you for not saying anything.”

 

“I won’t.” She smiled, gently patting Carlton on the shoulder before heading towards the door. “But you’re gonna have to tell him, it’s only a matter of time. I mean, I’m no psychic but I still put it together like a month ago.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


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